


Redneck Doctoring

by whumphoarder



Series: Tumblr Prompts [10]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Crack Whump, Drabble, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Peter Parker Whump, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:35:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23265565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whumphoarder/pseuds/whumphoarder
Summary: Drabble prompt: “Let’s see what we have to play doctor with…paper towels, expired peroxide and…duct tape?”
Relationships: Clint Barton & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Tumblr Prompts [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1281074
Comments: 52
Kudos: 287
Collections: Assassin Twins + Tony, IronDad! & SpiderSon!





	Redneck Doctoring

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [xxx-cat-xxx](https://xxx-cat-xxx.tumblr.com/), [sallyidss](https://sallyidss.tumblr.com/), and [awesomesockes](https://awesomesockes.tumblr.com/) for beta reading and ideas <3

Feeling Peter start to sway, Tony slows his walking and tightens his grip around the boy’s bicep. “You alright, kid?” he checks.

“Mmhmm...” Peter breathes, eyes closed. The cut above his bruised left eye is bleeding steadily, dripping down and mixing with the blood running from his nose. “‘m fine…”

“Because there is a strict ‘no swooning’ policy in place here,” Tony quips, letting his gaze travel disapprovingly around the dingy cabin as they continue their painfully slow shuffle to the bathroom. “These floors look like they haven’t seen soap since the Reagan administration.”

Clint is limping along a few steps behind them on his own sprained knee. “You know, there’s this saying about looking gift horses in the mouth, Stark,” he grumbles. “If you don’t like my safehouse, you can go get your own.”

Tony scoffs. “See, now can it really be called a ‘safehouse’ if it’s got more mold than that refrigerator you trash picked from the curb and tried to install in your room at the compound?”

“Okay, for the last time, that was not  _ mold. _ It was just a bad seventies paint job and some—”

Tony cuts him off with a sharp hiss of pain as Peter loses balance and stumbles sideways against his injured ribs. He has to blink twice to clear his blurred vision before he can grunt out, “What’d I say about the swooning, kid?”

“S’rry…” Peter mutters dizzily. “Don’ feel so good…”

Tony softens at the admission. “Yeah, I know. A couple good hits to the noggin will do that to you,” he says with a sigh. They’ve just managed to reach the bathroom’s threshold, so he maneuvers the kid inside and sits him down on the closed toilet lid. Peter immediately rests his elbows on his knees and hunches forward, supporting his head in his hands. 

“Just hang tight, alright?” Tony addresses the kid, who gives a hum of acknowledgment. He turns back to Clint. “So am I allowed to look in this gift horse’s saddle bags for a first aid kit?”

Clint rolls his eyes. He tilts his head in the direction of the bathroom medicine cabinet. “Should be some supplies in there.”

Tony nods gratefully. “Alright, let’s see what we have to play doctor with…” He opens the cabinet door—which all but falls off the rusty hinges—and surveys the meager contents of the shelves. He picks each item up in turn. “...Paper towels, expired peroxide, and…duct tape?” He turns to give Clint an incredulous look. “Really, Barton?”

Clint shrugs. Still keeping himself braced in the doorway, he reaches around Tony with one hand to open the vanity drawer and produces a dusty bottle of generic-brand aspirin. “There’s also drugs.” He twists off the cap and tosses back at least four pills, then crunches them between his teeth with a grimace.

(Tony shudders.)

Peter lets out a little moan, reverting their attention back to the task at hand. While Clint limps off to locate the satellite phone he claims is hidden under the floorboards, Tony uncaps the peroxide and pours some out onto a wad of paper towels. The bubbles have gone flat, so it’s likely not going to be a very effective antiseptic, but he figures it can’t hurt. It certainly looks cleaner than the rusty water coming out of the pipes, anyway.

Peter barely reacts as Tony carefully mops the blood off his face with the damp towels. The cuts over his temple and left eye could probably use stitches, but seeing as he seriously doubts  _ Château Barton _ contains a needle and thread (and even if it did, he wouldn't use it) that will just have to wait.

...Unless…

Using his teeth, Tony tears off a small piece of duct tape, then carefully splits it vertically into several thin strips. “Alright, kiddo.” He holds one of the strips up to the most offending wound. “This is what we call a redneck’s butterfly bandage…”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments make my day! Please consider leaving one below <3  
> Come and hang out on tumblr if you'd like! My url is [whumphoarder](https://whumphoarder.tumblr.com/)


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